Dear John
What’s wrong? Why can’t you just
be anything you want? Why not?
Why not? I tried to tell you then.
You didn’t understand. They try and
pigeonhole you. Buddy, they don’t
even know you. But hang on my dear,
dear, John. Maybe you’re not just like
everyone, so what, so what.
And there’s more to live for, than
some abbreviated encore, much more,
much more. You can’t define yourself
in terms of someone else. You can’t say
what you’re thinking? But I don’t know
what you’ve been drinking. But don’t
cry. ‘Cause life goes on. Dear John,
you could be anything you want. Why not?
Why not? Why you could even be an
astronaut, dear John, dear John.